When it Snows in Russia
by Itite Emakoiji
Summary: Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia are having to deal with Russia's love of biscuits today. As the snow falls outside, a little drama unfolds inside...


_(Emakoiji's Hetalia fan-fictions aren't all Someone and Canada, you know! I like other couples too! I left this fan-fiction for, like, six months. When I came back to it, all I'd written was the first line! Oh well, hope you enjoy it…–Itite Emakoji xxx  
Please note: 'Valenki' are a type of thick Russian boots.)_

"Oh Lat-via!"

Latvia, who was hurrying along the chic corridor flinched; that calm, dangerous voice could only belong to one person. How did he know Latvia was there anyway? Latvia was trying his very best to be as quiet as possible.

He popped his head around the door, trying to look cheerful, "Yes, master Russia?" his voice was trembling a little, but not so much that the occupied Russia would notice.

Russia turned around on his seat. His body did not move at all, so it looked a little creepy. He was sat on a huge black leather swivel seat. Well, it would look huge if anyone else but Russia was sitting on it. However, Russia was just big boned. Not fat. His pale purple eyes opened slowly and Latvia tried to suppress the shiver that passed through him.

"Yes, will you please get me some more biscuits?" said Russia smoothly. Latvia tried not to grin. The big boss had been hooked on biscuits lately; they were just plain biscuits, no chocolate on them or anything. Latvia nodded, went over to the desk, and retrieved master Russia's rough tea tray. On it were two empty packets that had previously contained biscuits.

"The same again, sir?"

"Please."

Latvia wandered over to the door again, "You know," he said absently, not really thinking, "you've been eating a lot of biscuits lately. You might be pregnant, sir!" Obviously, this was impossible, but Russia's body still froze as he jerked perfectly upright in his seat. He glared at Latvia, his thin-lipped smile unwavering.

Latvia freaked and almost dropped the tray, "I- I- I'm sorry, sir! Y- you're not pregnant! It wa- was a jo- joke!"

"Oh, is that all?" Russia stood up. Even though he was about four feet away, he still towered over little Latvia, who began trembling most terribly, shaking the empty biscuit wrappers on the tray.

"Yes, yes! That's all it is, just a harmless l- little joke, s- sir… just a harmless joke! Mm…" he made his escape quickly, before Russia could walk over. "I'll just get those biscuits for you, sir!" he yelled back, and darted immediately over to the kitchen. Russia's house was large, and Latvia _still_ managed to get himself lost in it. More often than not, when Latvia was meaning to visit the bathroom, he would walk into a cupboard. Or he would just walk into a wall. It all depended on how awake Latvia was.

Latvia was concentrating now. He went into the right door, guided by the sound of a kettle. In the kitchen, he found Estonia, smothered in a big white apron and hat. He glanced around quickly, saw that it was Latvia, and relaxed slightly. He continued chopping up the courgette.

"Latvia, did Russia shout at you again, you're sweating like a horse," Estonia mumbled, throwing the vegetable slices into a frying pan. He was talking fast, so Latvia only just caught the words.

"Um, not as such," said Latvia, setting down the tray and retrieving the little stool he had to stand on to be able to reach the very high cupboards. He was only young, but he was quite willing to work. "Are there any more cookies?"

"What? He wants _more_?"

Latvia nodded, and move the stool over. He opened the next cupboard and rummaged around in it. Nothing but tins and more bottles of vodka. What a surprise.

"Yeah… where are they?"

Estonia picked up an aubergine, "He can't have any."

"What? Why?"

"There aren't any left; that was the last packet. Or," he looked over at the tray, "the last _two_ packets. Besides, he insists you don't call them cookies. They're British, and-" he saw Latvia suddenly break out in a sweat and stopped. He knew that Latvia was terrified of Russia, more so than he was, but he was not going to volunteer for the task of telling master Russia that there were no more biscuits left. Estonia turned back to his aubergine.

Latvia stepped down from the stool, probably more terrified than he should be, and moved the stool round to the side of the counter and took a deep breath. He ruffled his pale brown hair nervously. Oh God… Russia was already the angriest man Latvia had ever met. What was he going to do when…? Latvia shuddered and went towards the door. Might as well get it over with.

A knock came at the door. Russia looked up, gleefully, and cried 'come in' cheerfully. Mm, biscuits! He couldn't wait! Lithuania came into the room holding the telephone. He had balanced it on a silver platter.

"Oh," Russia looked forlorn. Lithuania gave a wobbly smile.

"It's China on the phone for you. He wants to know why some of your people are over there. Apparently they're hunting pandas."

Russia scowled and his cheeks puffed out with fury. "I told them _not_ to hunt pandas," he took up the phone. "Hello? Hello, China. … Da. Da. Niet, I told them _not_ to hunt pandas. I told them to hunt your _people_."

Russia was smiling now. It was always a bad sign when Russia was smiling. Lithuania himself was trying his hardest not to shake. The telephone would fall off the platter if he did. Russia sent his people to hunt China's people. That would make anyone shake.

Russia giggled maniacally, "I do not need panda-skin rugs. I just have some stressed out people. Killing relaxes them, stupid! But don't worry! It will be fine. It will be fine."

"Sir… I wouldn't… say that…" Lithuania tried to signal to Russia to stop talking, but his boss wasn't taking any notice. He carried on speaking, verbally destroying China over the phone with mentions of population density and the many ways in which bamboo was stupid. Lithuania longed to get away. He saw Latvia out of the corner of his eye, who was panicking. Latvia knew not to come in; he was busy on the phone. Perhaps, if Latvia very quietly slipped away, Russia would forget all about his snack. He was the smallest third of the Baltics; he felt sure that Russia would easily get one of the others to do it for him.

"Oh Lat-via!"

Flinch! "Y- yes sir!" Latvia bounded into the room. Lithuania was leaving, head turned down, looking rather deflated in himself. He guessed that Lithuania was as worried as he was; Russia could run his mouth a lot and all three of them were petrified that he would end up starting a war.

Russia grinned, looking more menacing than nice. "Can I have my biscuits now?" he saw Latvia's empty hands and his grin grew a little bigger. Latvia bit his lip.

"Uh… Uhm… Th- there are none left, master Russia…"

The mood in the room suddenly changed and it felt as if an iceberg had landed on Latvia's head and was slowly melting. Latvia could almost see mist rising from the floor, that's how cold Russia's stare was. He grin had totally vanished now, and his purple eyes had gone steel-grey. Just when the tension in the room seemed to be unbearable, Russia smiled gently.

"Not to worry, Lat-via," he said Latvia's name in such a sing-song way that it sounding like he was mocking it. "You just go out and buy some more."

Relief flooded Latvia's spirit and he smiled, but, before he could speak, Russia piped up again. "On second thought," he said light-heartedly, "you might get kidnapped or something because you are so small."

Now that _was_ mocking. Everyone knew that Latvia was a little younger and smaller than the others, but that was no reason for Russia to go on mocking him. He grunted.

"LITH-U-A-NI-AAAA!"

Latvia jumped back against the wall. His master was usually so creepily quiet that it was surprising to hear him yell that loudly.

Lithuania burst in the door like a wild thing, his dark brown hair leaping out in all directions, "Who's died?!" he screamed. Russia looked at Latvia like a confused toddler and Latvia shrugged back.

Russia stood up and Latvia tried his best not to shrink back more. If he had, he would have been _in_ the wall. Lithuania looked a little embarrassed at yelling such a dumb thing, and was blushing pink. He stood up straight, put his hands behind his back and looked up at Russia.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"You are going to shop for me, Lith-u-a-ni-aaaa," he droned. Lithuania nodded. Latvia was astounded; how could he not mind how Russia said his name? Maybe it was because Lithuania was more grown up than he was, or maybe it was just because Lithuania didn't care.

"What would you like me to get for you?" asked Lithuania.

"Would you please buy me some more biscuits? They are very nice," Russia said.

Lithuania cocked his head, "The usual ones? Those little British ones?"

"Da. I would not normally eat British food. But they are very nice," it was like a coffee club all of a sudden. Latvia could never get his head around how Russia could be intimidating sometimes, and, at other times, like a friend. Lithuania bowed. He was sucking up to the big boss.

"I'll do that for you, sir. Is there anywhere I can get some money for them?"

"Use your own money."

Lithuania stopped and Latvia bit his lip. Russia had turned back into the unforgiving master. Lithuania had to use his _own_ money to buy biscuits for _Russia_? Yes, that was the way it worked.

With a glance that said 'I hate you at this moment, but I have to stay professional and respectful towards you,' Lithuania flounced out of the room, sweeping past Latvia as if he was on rails. Russia watched him go, then did not move for another few seconds. Latvia was almost breathing normally again when Russia suddenly moved, causing him to jump yet again.

"Maybe I should give him my money?"

Latvia said nothing.

Russia shrugged and went back to his seat. _He must have decided against it,_ Latvia thought.

"What would you like me to do now, sir?" he said, edging centimetre by centimetre towards the door and towards escape. Russia didn't turn around.

"Go and be small, Lat-vi-aa. I do not need you in my way now."

Latvia was out of the room instantly.

Estonia was sitting at the window, still in his oversized apron, watching soft snow fall outside and listening to the sizzling of the pan. It was calming. It was one of the few things he could still do freely. Being under Russia's rule… it did not allow much free time. He was so engrossed in watching the flakes slip down the window that he did not hear Lithuania open the door and come in. Lithuania himself ignored Estonia. Sure, he was part of the Baltic nations, but Lithuania always felt second rate when he was talking to Estonia, who, in his opinion, was more quick and agile in his thinking than the rest of them.

Lithuania started looking around for the biscuit wrapper. He thought that, if he went shopping for Russia, he would most likely get the wrong biscuits. That would make him look like an idiot. He figured Latvia would have put them in the garbage bin. He was right and fished a packet out. He took a quick look at it, then stuffed it in his pocket. Even if Lithuania lost it, he was pretty sure he'd remember the design.

After that, Lithuania set off. He had changed his boots into the thick _valenki_ Russia had provided for him when he started working, and had put on his thick brown coat. That would keep the cold out for sure. He threw the door open and faced the bitter cold of the Russian winter. The snow was unpredictable; it could be soft and fluffy, but then, after a few seconds, it would change into harsh ice shards that flew like spears through the grey air.

Same as usual, then.

Lithuania took a deep breath of warm air that was quickly escaping from the house, and set off, trudging headlong into the snow. Latvia was watching him quietly, thanking god that it wasn't him that had to go out there. He felt sorry for Lithuania, but not so sorry that he was going to step in and volunteer to go instead. Latvia admitted to himself that he was a bit of a coward. But it was better to be alive and in disgrace than dead and heroic, in his opinion. Besides, he could just disappear if he was alive, and no one would ask questions after a while.

Latvia went over and shut the large front door. _Lithuania must have been too tied up in the cold to have remembered to shut it,_ he thought. Then he tottered back into the kitchen. Russia never liked it if one of his employees wasn't doing anything.

"Latvia, take this out, will you?"

Latvia went over to Estonia and looked at him questioningly. Estonia pointed to the garbage can, exasperated. He couldn't understand why Russia wanted to eat so soon. Russia had been surviving on nothing but biscuits, and he still wanted an actual meal?

"Oh, right," Latvia moved the bin, opened it and grabbed the bag within. He tied it, and lugged it over to the back door. He wanted so desperately to have an actual conversation with Estonia, but it never seemed to go further than Estonia asking him to do something. Right before he opened the door, Latvia paused. He would try harder to create conversation with Estonia. However, Estonia himself was perfectly content with cooking for now. He didn't really mind Latvia's presence; it did mean that he had extra help in the kitchen with cleaning up, but still. Latvia, to him, was really more of a liability than a helping hand.

Plus, Latvia was a bit of a downer.

The store wasn't far from Russia's house, but it emanated dread from its doors. Lithuania had had to learn to read Russian in less than two months, so he was still a bit shaky on it, but he knew the majority of words he saw. He was just glad that the packet of biscuits was English; he had no trouble in reading English at all.

Lithuania got to the store and walked through the doors. It was slightly warmer than the outside, but still cold enough for snow, Lithuania reckoned. He looked up at the derelict signs and eventually found the one that said 'snacks'. Lithuania shivered his way over there and looked at all the biscuits. There were tins, scratched and dented all over, there were packets, half of them containing crushed cookies. But there were Russia's favourites, right at the end of the shelf. Lithuania sifted through them, finding a few packets that were almost untouched. He took five of them. Well, there was no point in just getting one was there? Russia would gulp them all down in no time.

There was a single cashier in the store. He was holding a cigarette and looked pretty bored, as well as frustrated with life. Lithuania laid the packets on the counter and the man looked at him, rolled his small eyes and sat forward. He put the cigarette in his mouth and puffed on it as he picked up the biscuits. He wasn't slender and he was manoeuvring himself on a swivel step around behind the counter. He scanned them through and chucked them down into a thin carrier bag.

He took the cigarette away, "Is that all?" he asked. He was snarky and unpleasant. Lithuania shook his head. "Very well. That's 417.97 rubles."

Lithuania blinked slowly, then passed him the money. The man put it in the till it, coughing, and pushed the carrier bag towards Lithuania, who took it up, being careful to support the precious cargo from underneath. He did not trust that bag. Lithuania put his change back into his pocket. The man had coughed all over that, too.

Lithuania left. The snow had stopped, but there was a strong wind. He carefully tucked the bag under his coat and hugged the biscuits to his chest. There was no telling what Russia might do it the biscuits were to be lost. He got upset enough as it was when he found a broken one in the packet. Lithuania had tried had not to get the broken packets, but there would still, inevitably, be broken biscuits.

He kept on tramped, ignoring other sparse and frozen souls that were trudging around themselves. He passed an androgynous figure which had hastily stuffed itself inside jackets and scarfs. It was holding a spade and digging the snow away from a shape that looked a bit like a car.

Lithuania tramped past.

Lithuania tramped up the path back to Russia's.

Lithuania tramped into the house and shut the big door. It had to be big; Russia was big.

Lithuania shivered. It felt colder in the house now than when he left it. It was a big building with not many carpets except in bedrooms, and Russia never had the heating on, so the house was often only one or two degrees warmer than the outdoors. Lithuania put the bag down on the little end table beside the door, and shed his coat and _valenki_. He put his boots back on. He felt happy so he began humming to himself. It was not any song in particular, but just notes that fitted together nicely.

But it was still deathly cold in the house. Maybe Russia had shouted at someone recently? As if on cue, Latvia emerged from Russia's drawing room, trembling slightly. Lithuania went up to his young co-worker uncertainly.

"What's wrong? Did Russia yell at you?"

Latvia gulped, "No… I dropped and broke one of his mugs. I just told him."

"And…?" Lithuania put his head on one side. "Was he mad? Did he threaten you?"

Latvia shook his head. He looked terrified, "No, he just _smiled_. Didn't say anything for like a minute."

This scared Lithuania a little. If Russia was _smiling_ at you, instead of 'smiling', you knew you were in trouble. More trouble than if he raised his voice.

Latvia looked up at Lithuania, "Lith-"

"LITH-U-A-NI-AAAA!"

Latvia jumped twice his own height in the air, then scampered off. The Voice of Impending Doom that was Russia's had sounded.

Lithuania straightened his collar then went over to the drawing room. He wasn't sure he wanted to enter it; Russia sounded really pissed off but still. If he didn't go in, he would probably have something bad done to him.

"Yes, sir?" he was trying his best not to sound too petrified as he went in. Russia was standing at the window which was closed tight against the bipolar Russian weather. He had his hands behind his back, but his posture was tense.

"Did you get the biscuits?" his voice was frosty and overflowing with menace. If Lithuania gave the incorrect answer…

"Yes, sir."

"And you got them with your _own_ money?"

"Y- yes sir."

Russia turned, smiling, "Good!"

Lithuania tried a wary smile back, "Shall I put them away in the kitchen, sir?"

"Mm, do that. And bring some in," he paused and grinned light-heartedly, "please."

Lithuania relaxed. It was weird how some things, like Latvia breaking a mug, could work him up so, and how other things, like Lithuania's buying of the biscuits, could make him happy. He had the mentality of a child. In fact, he was _like_ a child. He had a childish face too, but he had a terrible dark side. Russia turned back to the window, silent again, as Lithuania went out.

"That boy…" he said quietly to himself and giggled.

Lithuania had retrieved the plastic bag full of biscuits from the end table and was putting them away neatly in a cupboard. He wasn't really listening to Estonia, who was complaining about Latvia.

"That kid couldn't carry a ball if it had handles! It's not as if that mug was _small _either."

"Mm… I guess not."

Estonia was rooting around in the freezer. He pulled a frosted box out of it with a grunt and opened it, "He gets in the way. It was all fine in here until he began to 'help'."

Lithuania paused opening a packet of biscuits to have a gander around the room. It wasn't messy, and the smashed mug had been cleared away. The only objectionable thing he could see was the orange stain on the tiles beside where he was standing, in front of the oven.

"He even spilt the soup! I'd just de-frosted it when he came running in and crashed into the handle."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Lithuania laid the biscuits in a ring around the edge of the plate. It was pretty. He knelt down to get a glass.

"Well, no… but now I've got to do it all again. Stupid kid…"

Estonia could be mean, especially when he was frustrated. He would cool off eventually, though. Lithuania placed the glass in the middle of the plate, and poured a little bit of vodka in it. Russia liked his vodka even more than he liked the biscuits. He ignored Estonia's further grumbling again and took the plate through into the drawing room with upmost care. If that plate had got broken too, or the glass, Russia would be even angrier than he was now.

Lithuania went into the drawing room.

"Sir! Biscuits and vodka for you," he placed the plate on Russia's desk.

Russia turned round and his purple eyes shone with delight, "Yay!" he rushed right over to the dewsk. Then he remembered that he was meant to be professional and grown up and looked right at Lithuania, who smiled uneasily.

"Here, Lithy…" he said quietly, and pulled up a second chair to the desk. "We shall share them, da?"


End file.
